Blanket
by Jocemum
Summary: Molly Weasley faces the birth and the loss of her seventh child.


**A/N: This story is dedicated with love to Jocelyn and Regina, my daughters, for whom I made blankets.**

**Blanket**

"Knit one, purl two...yarn over...behind...through...draw it taut...knot...done!" Molly leaned back against the pillows and sighed, then turned with a tired smile to the man sitting next to her. "I told you I'd have it finished in time. Why do you ever doubt me?"

There was no answer from the man slumped in the chair, merely a gentle snore. Molly watched Arthur fondly for a moment, then returned to the contemplation of the blanket in her lap. Without magic, it had taken considerably longer than usual to finish, but during the high-risk pregnancy, she'd been forbidden to tax herself in any way, and that included doing magic.

Everything that could complicate a pregnancy seemed to have happened to her with this one. Occasional cramping and spotting, fatigue, shortness of breath, and swelling...you couldn't even see her ankles now. Months earlier, the healers had placed her on bedrest, and now for these last few weeks, she'd taken up residence at St. Mungo's, being monitored constantly.

With six children at home, this was a disaster. Molly had been too sick and fatigued to cope with it, but Arthur had stepped in and organized everything. Yvetta Raleigh, a young neighbor, was hired to spend weekday mornings minding the children and tending to the house. Hugo Pemberton, Arthur's boss, had agreed to let him work half days for the duration of the pregnancy. He would come directly to the hospital, spend an hour with her, and then head to the Burrow to relieve Yvetta.

Molly grimaced, gripped by a heavy contraction. Labor had begun in the early hours of the morning. Arthur had been summoned. He'd arranged for Yvetta to come and remain with the children, and now he slept. She glanced at him again; he looked exhausted. He was carrying the family, and all she could do was lay in bed and fret. Fret about him, fret about the children, fret about money...always about money.

Another contraction, harder this time. Molly panted until it subsided. The blanket was balled up in her lap where she'd grabbed it when the pain hit. She smoothed it out. Blue...several deep shades of blue, in a variegated pattern that swirled the colors through it. She'd made a blanket for all of her boys, each a different color, each a different pattern.

For their first-born, she'd chosen a deep reddish-orange, the color of Weasley hair. Bill had been such a sturdy baby, walking and talking early, into everything in the house, ready for any adventure that came along. A beautiful boy, with a sunny disposition, following his father everywhere. The first couple of years his blanket was with him constantly, until he'd worn it into rag.

Then came Charlie. His blanket had been browns and tans, like earth and sand. It matched him so well, for Charlie was never happier than when he was outdoors. He was on a broom early for he was determined to do everything that Bill did. Even as a small child, animals seemed to respond to him. He was always bringing something home to add to his own little menagerie.

For her third son, she'd chosen deep purples, royal colors. Percy had been quiet and aloof from the very beginning. He seemed content to be alone more than the others, less inclined to join in their activities. Reading came easily to him, and he loved to curl up in his father's armchair with a book.

The next pregnancy had required two blankets for Fred and George. She'd finally decided on greens and golds woven together. Having twins was certainly a unique experience. The two babies were inseparable from the first, fussing if they couldn't see each other. Now they were everywhere, always the one with the other, their lives as intertwined as the pattern on their blankets. They seemed to have no fear of anything, and Molly lived with the constant worry that they'd break their necks – together.

For Ron...well, she still hadn't run out of ideas. The blanket was made with rich shades of wine and maroon. And this boy, like his oldest brother Bill, dragged it with him as he toddled through the house, trying to keep up with all of his brothers. He never seemed to understand that he was 'too little', maybe because there was always a bigger brother to pick him up and take him along. More often than not, the littlest boy was at the receiving end of his older brothers' pranks, but he never minded.

And now, for the newest baby...blue. The boys all knew that there was another baby on the way. Andrew Arthur was the name she'd chosen. Often, when she was laying on the couch at home, one or another of the boys would come up and pat her stomach and say, "Hey, little Andy." To them, the fact that there was another boy on the way seemed a normal occurrence.

To Arthur and her, well...they hadn't expected this pregnancy. Molly thought she'd finished after Ron. They'd been surprised...shocked actually. Arthur's knees had buckled and he'd had to sit down. But she'd immediately seen the pattern of the blanket in her mind. And through the months of problems, working on it had kept her sane.

Pain again. This time Molly couldn't keep back the moan that escaped her. Arms came around her, supporting her. "Deep breaths, Moll." As it eased, she looked up into Arthur's worried eyes. "Better now?" She nodded. "I'm going to call Healer Sutton."

How loved, cherished, the man made her feel. It had been that way since the start of their relationship. Easy-going Arthur Weasley and fiery-tempered Molly Prewett – who would have thought it? Opposites attract, and it was still that way. When things got out of hand – and when didn't they with six boys in the house – her reaction was to yell. Arthur, though, could calm the commotion with a word. And how he loved his boys. How he would love this new one. She smiled at him as he entered the room accompanied by the Healer.

Healer Sutton ran her wand over Molly, her expression concerned. After a moment of examination, she turned to the two of them. "I'm worried about the erratic course and the intensity of the contractions. I'd like to call in..."

Molly screamed. She couldn't help it as a knife-like pain tore through her midsection. She doubled over in agony as the pain increased, dimly aware of Arthur holding her, the Healer yelling for assistance. The room was suddenly full, people touching her, wands moving over her, vials of potion being pressed to her lips. The commotion increased and the voices became frenzied.

"Get another Healer on those Blood Staunching charms!"

"We need more Blood Replenishing potions STAT!"

"Hurry! Start Cardiac Stabilizing charms – we're losing her!"

"Mr. Weasley, please! We need you to get out of the way!"

Molly tried to protest. If she was dying, let it be with Arthur holding her. But her voice wouldn't work. She was too tired, in too much pain. Voices were receding; it was getting too dark to see. The last thought that struck her as her eyes closed, _"Please, no...I've lost our baby..."_

The room was very still. She ached all over, but the searing pain was gone. Something was tickling her cheek. Arthur, asleep beside her, sharing her pillow, his hair touching her face. And over his shoulder, curled up asleep in the chair was their son, Bill. The realization hit her that Arthur must have sent for him. Wizarding tradition called for the presence of the eldest child at a dying parent's bedside.

Tears began to slowly run down her face as grief overwhelmed her. Arthur stirred and pulled her into his arms. "Molly, love, I thought I'd lost you."

She wept as he held her. At the sound of her sobbing, Bill came upright. "Mom, are you okay?"

"She's fine, son." Arthur was still holding her tightly as if afraid to release her. "Go out to the desk and tell the Healer that your mother's awake, will you?"

Bill nodded, his eyes wide in his face, red hair tousled from sleep. He gave her half a smile, and ran towards the door.

Molly couldn't stop crying. Arthur was speaking softly, calmingly, rubbing her back, stroking her hair. Finally, she was able to compose herself enough to take a deep breath and speak. "I know, Arthur. I know I lost our boy."

He straightened up. "Molly, love. Listen..."

The Healer bustled in just then, with Bill behind her. There was no chance for further conversation as she worked. She was loud, brusque, and efficient as she examined Molly. Satisfied with the results of her scan, she put her hands to her hips and surveyed the couple in the bed. "You're quite stable now, Mrs. Weasley. We'll keep you for another couple of days for monitoring, just to be sure, but after that, we should be able to discharge you home. Call me if you need anything, but for now, I'm sure you'd like to be with your family and your new little one."

Bill stepped around the Healer as she departed, and approached the bed, proudly carrying a bundle...a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket. Molly struggled to sit up and held out her arms, almost too afraid to voice her hope. "You mean...h-he made it...he's all right?"

Then the bundle was in her arms and she gently slid the blue blanket from off her baby's face. A baby crowned with reddish-gold curls, blue eyes staring up into Molly's face. Arthur tried to speak, but could only choke back a sob for a moment. Finally, holding her close..."Molly, we have a daughter. And she's perfect."

The feeling that rose in her as she looked into the eyes of her baby daughter was indescribable. Overwhelming joy. _My daughter..._Through all her pregnancies, she had never quite given up the faint hope that she might someday have a girl. After six boys, she'd finally accepted that Weasley wives had boys, period. And now here in her arms, a girl, a daughter.

Tears again, this time falling for happiness. "Oh, Arthur. She's so beautiful!"

"She is that." Arthur had a few tears on his own face. "What shall we call her?"

Through all the years of having boys, she'd kept a name in the back of her mind, never expecting to have the chance to use it. She smiled into Arthur's eyes. "Ginevra."

He shook his head, smiling back at her. "Ginevra Molly."

Bill slid onto the bed next to them and eyed his baby sister speculatively. "Ginevra, huh? She's awfully tiny." Reaching out tentatively, he touched her hand with his finger. "Hello, little Ginny." She responded, instinctively curling her fingers around his. "Wow," he said, looking up at his parents. "I think I'm in love."

Watching his eldest child with his new daughter, Arthur leaned down to rest his head against Molly's hair, and softly whispered in her ear," So am I."

**Hope you liked it. Please review – I'm getting really addicted to reviews! **


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